Maybe I Was Wrong
by Heart of a Dixon
Summary: All it took was the daughter of my "lover" to make me see that maybe I was wrong. Maybe I wasn't gay. Young man OC
1. Hydroplaning Through the Bayou

ALEXIS'S POV:

I glanced worriedly over the top of my magazine and out into the rain, hoping my daughter would be alright. Kimba was a very capable young woman, but my 17-year old adopted daughter was meeting us at our vacation house on the island, relying on one of her "buddies" to drive her from her private high school all the way to the ferry.

I puffed on my cigarette, gazing over at my husband, David. "Do you think she's gonna make it?"

His expression stayed passive. "I certainly hope so."

"Do you think _we'll_ make it?" I asked with a glance at the clock on the dash.

"I certainly hope so," he repeated in the exact same tone. The speedometer needle lifted itself around an arch as David pressed the gas further down.

"Well, dot get carried away," I said softly.

"I'm not getting carried away, I'm just trying to make sure that we don't-"

"Make sure that we get there first," I interrupted when his voice teetered toward defensiveness.

"I don't think doing 65 on route 1 makes us Bonnie and Clyde," he retorted sarcastically.

I turned back to my magazine.

"Just keep your eyes peeled, okay?" David requested.

I continued thumbing through my magazine.

It was ripped out of my hands and tossed into the backseat within a mere minute. "Darling, I mean it, I need your help here. This is like hydroplaning through the god damned bayou."

I glared at him. "Don't blame me because you were two hours late, David, it doesn't become you." I forcefully put my cigarette out in the ashtray hanging off the edge of the dash. I sighed and looked out of the window, holding my forehead in annoyance.

For absolutely no reason whatsoever, David starting pressing down on the horn in the middle of the steering wheel.

"What is wrong with you?"

"Honey, just watch the road," he said shortly.

The rain pattering down outside added to my irritability. Even the inside of the car was cold. I scoffed and turned to look out of the windshield. Something dark on the side of the road caught my eye.

"Slow down."

"What is it?" he asked, not slowing down in the slightest.

It was a person. The person was running toward the road, but when it got to the edge, it just fell over, crumpled in on itself as it dropped to the ground.

"Stop."

"What do you mean stop? We're gonna miss the boat."

"No, really I think I saw something!"

"Saw something? What do you mean?"

"David! Stop!"

David pulled the car over to the side of the road and we both got out of the car, into the ice cold rain. I jogged ahead of David to the side of the road. A young man with dark hair was laying on the ground, seeming to have passed out.

"Is he alive?" David asked nervously.

I crouched down next to the boy. I reached out, about to touch his head.

"Stop," David said before my hand could reach him.

"What?" I asked, turning around.

"Don't touch him," he snarled derisively. "I think we should just call the police and not get involved."

"Involved? He needs help!" I turned back to the boy.

"I know! That's why we're calling the police!"

"But shouldn't we just-"

"No. Trust me." David started to walk back to the car.

The young boy lifted his head, surprisingly vocal considering he had just woken up. "No," he said softly. "No cops."

David turned around, staring down at the boy incredulously.

Without his face in the ground, I could see him better now. He had bright blue eyes that stared out from the gloom of the rain, but his left eye was blackened by a large bruise. His dark hair was long enough to barely reach the middle of his face, most of it sticking to his forehead from the rain.

"Do you know where you are?" I asked quietly.

He blinked at me a couple times, making a pained faced before looking at the land around him. "Sorta."

"Can you walk?"

David cut in. "I'm calling the police."

"I said no cops!" the boy said, trying to speak louder so his young voice reached my husband's ears over the noise of the rain.

"Listen," David started. "We have boat to catch."

"David!" I said, not looking up from the boy.

"Alexis, will you let me handle this? We cant help you if you don't let me call the police."

A short pause. "Then don't help." The courage that flashed through the young man's eyes was heartbreaking, inspiring that someone so young could face whatever he was going through (and it looked like one hell of something) alone.

After small discussion, I convinced David to let him ride as far as the ferry with us.

* * *

**Let me know if I should keep going! :) Thanks for reading! **


	2. The Hitchhiker

ALEXIS'S POV:

There was small, tense conversation in the car on the way to the ferry, but it was awkward and wet. When we got to the ferry, the boat was pulling away.

"Sorry," the boy said by the hood of the car, staring uncomfortably at his hands.

I looked back at him. "Its not your fault," I assured him.

David turned around. "So long, then." Ugh! He could be such a rude man sometimes. I'm sure Kimba wouldn't have refrained from telling him outright that he was making an ass out of himself.

The boy nodded and threw his backpack over his shoulder. "Thanks for the lift."

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" I asked, concerned for the boy.

He nodded. "Yeah, I'll survive."

"Okay then," David said. "Bye now."

"Wait," I said digging through my purse for something. I pulled my wallet out.

David scowled. "He said he'll survive."

I ignored David and walked toward the boy, pulling some cash out. I started to hand it to him.

He shook his head and waved his hand. "No, really-"

"Please. Take it."

He hesitated a moment before reluctantly conceding to my wishes.

"Be careful."

He nodded and shook my hand. "Thanks." He walked away. "See ya around."

I couldn't help but think that there was something quite odd about that boy. But odd in a good way.

"I suggest you scrub that hand with ammonia as soon as possible," David said, glaring at me.

"Why? You wanna hold it?" Fat chance. David hadn't held my hand since we were much younger. "Kimba would've liked him," I grumbled when I didn't get a reply, turning back to David.

Oo0oO

We rented a room in a shabby little motel for the night until the ferry came back the next morning. David didn't really appreciate the adorable antique grandma's cabin atmosphere as much as I did. David was an ass as usual about the room. But while I was arguing with him over the livability of the motel room, I was worrying about Kimba.

KIMBA'S POV:

I was having a nice dream about swimming on the beach at my mother's vacation house when I was awakened by the honking of car horns.

I jolted upright in the passenger's seat. "Ugh!" I groaned when I saw the long line of traffic in front of us.

"Sorry, kiddo," Bobbi, my best friend, said beside me. "Its gonna take a while before we get through this mess."

"Yeah, a while meaning weeks," said Derek, our other best friend (also my boyfriend) in the open back of Bobbi's big van. The blue paint on the outside was chipping away slowly, and I doubted that all this rain was helping any.

Bobbi was a girl my age with long blond hair and a friendly face.

Derek was a punk rock kid with ripped up jeans, and spiked black hair. He dressed according to his own style, not the school's uniforms. The ones Bobbi and I were wearing. Tan short-sleeve button up with a white tank underneath and an orange pleated skirt.

I made a pathetic noise, glaring out of the foggy window at the cars around us. "I bet my parents are already there, fine and dandy, _sipping tea and munching dainties_," I said, mimicking my mother's accent.

Though both of my parents had a slight English accent, I had none. I was adopted at the age of 3. I was already talking by 3, so I hadn't learned to pronounce my words with the slurs they used.

Derek chuckled and shook his head. Seeing that the traffic was going no where, I unbuckled and walked into the open back of the van with Derek.

He grabbed my hand and squeezed it. "We'll get there," he assured me, flashing a smile that made his green eyes crinkle.

I sat down and Derek sat with me, tossing an arm around my shoulders and drawing me into his side. I shut my eyes for a moment, envisioning what it would be like when I finally saw my parents again for the first time since Christmas break.

Back then, I had been just the same as I always had been around my peers, awkward and shy. I had been my own wild self around my parents. But after finding friendship in two fellow outcasts (Bobbi and Derek), I lightened up and was probably now even more wild around my parents. I was a bit more problematic for the teachers, but not bad enough for them to have to report me to my parents.

I wondered what they would think of how long my hair had grown to be, or how much different my new brand of makeup made my eyes look, or would they mind much (if they noticed at all) that I had pierced the cartilage in my left ear?

Before long, I had fallen asleep.

But when I woke up, we had picked up a hitchhiker. And, not that I would ever openly admit this with Derek so close, an attractive hitchhiker.

* * *

**Is it our hothothothothot hitchhiker from earlier? ,':O We'll just have to see. Thanks for reading! Review! :) **


	3. Fish Guts

KIMBA'S POV:

When Derek woke me up, I rubbed at my eyes and looked out the windshield where there was no longer any traffic. I could see the back of the ferry against the nearly-set sun. There was no one on board. But there was someone walking up to the boat. His dark back was retreating hastily. What was he doing? Didn't he know the ferry was out of commission at night?

Bobbi saw where I was looking. "We picked him up back there on the road. He's kinda strange. But very cute."

I tried to roll my eyes for Derek's sake, but, given the confident and somewhat mysterious set of his shoulders, I had no doubt in my mind that he was, indeed, very cute. "Wait a second. We missed the ferry?" I began to panic.

Bobbi placed a calming hand on my shoulder. "Calm down, Kimi, we'll just stay with you in a hotel or something and then when we wake up, we'll all come down to the ferry, me and Derek will see you off and everything will be all gravy."

I tried to take comfort from her rational train of thought, but I had had my heart set on seeing with my parents today. "Yeah," I sighed, deflated. "alright."

We found and checked into a little beach-side motel with an antique feel to it. I thought it was adorable. I laid back on the bed as Bobbi assigned Derek to sleeping on the floor.

"Why do I have to?" he whined.

I tried not to giggle. He could be so childish sometimes. I wasn't sure if I liked it or not, but it was definitely a goofy thing for someone who looked so macho (or at least tried to be) to act so… immaturely indignant.

Given my nap in the van on our way here, I wasn't too tired. I kept Bobbi and Derek up with me all night, ignoring their yawns of protest. I questioned them on the stranger we had picked up on the road, intrigued by his vague mystery, I told them in detail all about my mother's vacation home. The polished wood floors, all of the dusty old knickknacks, the coolness of the water after my mother and I had picked basket loads of mushrooms.

Around one in the morning, I finally fell asleep.

Oo0oO

"I cant believe we missed it again," I said emotionlessly. "We woke up early and everything. How did this happen?"

Bobbi and Derek shrugged, both with large, tired circles beneath their eyes.

"You guys go on home. I'll just wait for it to get back." They looked like they were about to protest, but I quickly held a hand up to stop them. "I'm just going to sit right here and wait, and when the ferry gets back, I'll take it across and meet my parents at the house."

They frowned, but begrudgingly obliged. Bobbi gave me a quick hug and hopped back into the van.

"I guess I'll see you next school year," Derek said, staring out across the water.

"I guess so," I said with a scowl. The fact that I wouldn't get to see my boyfriend for the duration of summer kind of bummed me out, though I was looking forward to staying with my parents for a while.

He pulled me into a close embrace and kissed me quickly. "So I've been thinking…"

I narrowed my eyes at his tone, nearly as stiff as his kisses. "About?"

He suddenly couldn't look in my eyes.

"Derek? What have you been thinking about?"

He turned away from me. "I think we need to break up."

My ears started ringing. He what? For a moment I was too stunned to speak, but when I regained my voice, the first thing that popped out was, "You kiss me one second and the next you break up with me?"

He sighed. "Look Kimba, its not you-"

"Its you?" I asked.

He looked uncomfortable. "Well, not exactly."

"What is it then?"

He glanced instinctively back at the van where Bobbi was studiously paying way too much attention to the peeling pictures on her steering wheel cover.

My body felt weak. I wanted to collapse right there and sob my eyes out, but I wouldn't give them the satisfaction of that. "I think you should leave, Derek," I said without looking at him.

"Will you just let me explain-"

"Explain how you're leaving me for my best friend, or how that best friend turned out to be a boyfriend-stealing bitch? Because I would like to know both. Please enlighten me to how exactly this happened."

He jerked back as if he'd been slapped.

"Just leave, Derek." Before I start crying, please.

His jaw tightened and he nodded, turning away from me and getting back into the van with Bobbi, the traitor.

I sat heavily onto the wooden dock, trying not to pay attention to the sound of the tires on the van pulling away as the only tear I allowed to be shed for that asshat slid down my cheek.

Oo0oO

Okay, so I lied to Bobbi and Derek about staying on the dock till the ferry came back (what did it matter anyway? They lied to me too), but I was getting all antsy from just sitting there feeling sorry for myself. So I got up and walked around a bit, up the shoreline.

A few yards off, I could barely make out a fisherman and his boat. I gripped my bags tighter and ran for it. The ferry was being ridiculously slow, so why didn't I just go and take a ride from something closer to hand?

"Hey!" I called, trying to wave with the hand that wasn't pulling my suitcase. The duffle bag around my shoulder bumped around as I waved at the man.

He was wearing a bright yellow rain coat and hat. "What can I do for you, miss?" the old man asked, taking his hat off and exposing his butter-yellow teeth.

I resisted the urge to retch at the smell of fish coming from behind him on the boat. "Well, I'm supposed to be meeting my parents at our vacation house out there," I gestured out across the water. "but my ferry already left and I really don't have the time to sit around and wait for it." Or at least I didn't have the patience.

"Yeah, sure, I can get you there. Just hop on in and I'll take you over."

I laughed once. "Thank you, thank you so much."

He nodded and helped me over the boats edge and into the smelly, slimy-decked boat. He held up a finger before he got in and said, "I just have to get these fish in there," he pointed behind him to an old, falling apart Italian restaurant.

I nodded and watched as he picked up a large net full of fish flopping around. I sat restlessly, trying to distract myself from the loss of Derek, and even more from the fact that I really didn't mind as much as I probably should have.

The man was back almost 15 minutes later and still I couldn't see the ferry anywhere. He started up the boat and I gave him his directions. He, being a fisherman, stopped a few times along the way to cast his net into the water. I could hardly protest as this was his boat and his occupation, but after the third time, I was getting a little frustrated.

"Is that the ferry?" I asked myself as a large boat came out of the fog. I groaned into my hands when it rode straight past us, back in the direction of the dock.

I wanted to ask the fisherman to speed things along, but I was lucky he had been nice enough to give me a ride. The ferry passed by us (at varying distances) at least three more times, I had vomited over the side of the boat a total of 6 times, and night had fallen by the time we finally made it to the shore of the large island the vacation house sat on.

I thanked the man and insisted he take at least five dollars for the trouble (but mostly so he could afford to lessen up at least a tiny bit on the outrageous amounts of fishing). He pushed off of land and, with a last decaying smile, disappeared.

I shook off the feeling of disgust that overtook me when I thought about the smell of fish. I twisted my head and sniffed my shoulder. I tried not to gag. "I need a shower," I grumbled, walking slowly up the hill, trying to rediscover my land legs.

When I made it up to the house, I could immediately tell my parents weren't home. The boat was gone and all the lights were out. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my copy of the key.

I was a little disappointed that I still wouldn't be able to see my parents, but I was glad I would have the chance to take a shower before anyone caught the scent of sea salt and guts on me.

I closed and locked the door behind me before flicking on the light switch and sighing happily. Screw Derek and Bobbi. I had this amazing place. I chuckled and moved around slowly, recalling memories of each little thing in the house.

It didn't matter if David and Alexis weren't biologically related to me, they were my parents. David had been the one to push me on the swing and check my closet for booger monsters. Alexis had nursed me back to health when I caught the flu and had helped me repaint my room when I was 8. Both of them had encouraged me in school and treated me as if I truly was their child.

After my shower, I wrapped my hair in a towel and changed into a pair of navy-colored sweat pants and a tank top. As I was towel-drying my hair, I heard the front door downstairs click closed. Then the jingling of keys, the shuffling of feet, the muffled sound of quiet chatter.

"Kimba," the familiar voice of David called upstairs. "darling, are you here?"

I squealed and dropped my towel, running out of my room and down the stairs. "Daddy!" I laughed, hugging him as he grinned.

"How are you, sweetheart?" He pressed a fatherly kiss to my forehead and released me.

I turned to give my mother a hug in reunion, but there was someone else there, too. A young man not much older than I was. He had dark hair and a fading black eye. Blue eyes gazed curiously into my own. I saw a hint of recognition in them. But I had never seen this man. Or at least I didn't think I had.

"Kimba," my mother sighed, relieved. "We were so worried about you." She worried over me, her maternal side kicking into overdrive. After she was done quizzing me on my well-being, she seemed to remember the other man standing in our living room. "This is, umm, someone we picked up along the road. And then, we found him again earlier this afternoon."

I nodded and shook his hand. "Kimba."

His hand was warm, despite his wet appearance. "Nice to meet you." Even his voice was appealing. Nobody, including me, seemed to realize that he never gave us his name.

We got him comfortable in front of the fire and gave him a robe as we let his clothes dry. We sat around with him, talking a lot about nothing until we realized that the man had fallen asleep on the couch.

My dad frowned. He and my mom got into an argument about them not having said he could sleep over, but we needed to help him, et. Cetera.

But I was too caught up in examining his face. Unlined in sleep, relaxed and unworried. From what my parents told me, he must've been involved in something pretty bad. Normally I would feel nervous having someone who didn't want the cops near them in our house, but there was something intriguing (in an oddly familiar way) about him.

My parents went upstairs to bed and told me goodnight. "Honey, aren't you going to bed?" my mom asked.

I shook my head. "I've slept a lot in the past couple days. I think I'm just going to get something to eat first."

She nodded and turned back up the stairs.

I sent one last fleeting look at the guy on the couch before standing and venturing into the kitchen. I found a cup of jello and quickly gobbled it down. When I came back into the living room, turning the light in the kitchen off as I left, I saw that the man was beginning to wake up.

He stirred briefly and then his eyes popped open. "Did I pass out here?" he asked quietly.

I nodded. When he started apologizing and began to stand up, I waved a hand in dismissal. "Its fine. My dad was a little grumpy, but my mom convinced him to let you stay. And don't take that personally, he's like that with everyone." I moved closer, unsure why my foot were moving without my consent.

"And where do you stand?" he asked, cocking his head at me curiously. "On me sleeping over, I mean."

I shrugged. "I haven't got a problem with it. You need a place to sleep and we have a couch."

He smiled. "Aren't you worried? Having a guy in the house with you here?"

That was when I started to get nervous. "W-What do you mean?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Aren't you scared I'm a rapist or a serial killer or something?"

I took a moment to think about it, searching his face for any hint of menace. Then I shook my head. "It would certainly explain why you didn't want to get involved with the police, but I don't think you're that kind of person."

He cocked a brow at me. "How can you be sure?"

"Well, I cant. But… I have a feeling you're better than that."

It looked like what I said caught him off guard or struck a nerve. His eyes widened a fraction and his head moved back. "Trusting, aren't you?" He turned his head away, looking down at the armrest, but I could hear the uncertainty and guilt in his voice.

"I like to think of it as optimistic." After a pause, I hesitantly asked, "You haven't killed anyone have you?"

He gave a tiny smile that didn't reach his eyes. "No. I can honestly say I haven't." I thought the unsaid, but still present, "yet" was just my overactive, and apparently paranoid, mind.

"Well, there you go. I guess I've got nothing to worry about."

He looked up then, slightly amused. "I never said I wasn't a rapist."

I squinted my eyes at him and puckered my lips in thought. "No," I decided, "You're not a rapist, either. Too… I dunno, nice-looking."

He grinned. "You think I'm nice-looking?"

"Well, I don't mean in _that _way," even though I most certainly did. "I just mean, you look like a nice guy."

"Well, thanks, then. I guess," he chuckled. I found myself laughing right along with him, unable to help myself from being affected by his voice. His laughter was interrupted by a yawn.

"Oh, gosh, I'm sorry," I said, hastily backing away. "I'll let you get to sleep, then."

He started to argue, but I cut him off. "Come on, you look like you're about to pass out whether or not I get out of your hair. You're exhausted. Get some sleep." I turned and started to walk up the stairs, but turned around. "I hope I see you tomorrow before you leave. Then I'll know for sure you aren't a serial killer."

He smirked and leaned back against the couch. "I thought you knew I wasn't."

I shrugged. "Reassurance."

I left him and went up to my bedroom, happy that I had figured out where I had seen him before. He was the retreating back Bobbi had given a lift to the ferry. Why he would need to go back there after leaving my parents there I didn't know.

But I would keep that to myself. For now.

* * *

**Oh goodness, I think this one might be my favorite fanfiction to write. Maybe. Its right up there with my Game Over series. So anyway, Thanks for reading, as always, and please review! :D **


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